


The Dick, Though?

by quicksparrows



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:07:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21718906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksparrows/pseuds/quicksparrows
Summary: There is better dick to be had than Sylvain Jose Gautier -- a plea from Dorothea to Hilda.(A spin-off/follow-up to Hilda Here Is A Virgin!)
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Dorothea Arnault/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Dorothea Arnault/Sylvain Jose Gautier/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 5
Kudos: 118





	The Dick, Though?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Hilda Here Is A Virgin!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21541957) by [quicksparrows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksparrows/pseuds/quicksparrows). 



It had been a lovely tea time. So lovely, in fact, that as Dorothea and Hilda lingered on the final back and forths of their conversations, the polite _what are you doing with the rest of your day_ queries and so on, Dorothea was shocked to get something so troublesome in response:

“Yeah uhhh... I think I’m going to drop by Sylvain’s room.”

“What?” Dorothea uttered. Horror flooded her as she realized _why_. “Hilda... you’re such a beautiful girl, you could have any boy wrapped around your finger... why would you go back to Sylvain?”

Hilda shrugged effortlessly.

“He was really nice about it, and he didn’t make it weird after,” Hilda replied. “And the dick was good.”

Dorothea’s face fell. The dick _was_ good. But no, she couldn’t let that go — it was so important that Hilda didn’t settle. She realized, crestfallen, that Hilda would make no effort to find _better_ dick.

“How do you know it’s good if it’s the only one you’ve had?” Dorothea asked, sweetly.

Hilda smiled. It was cheeky, and effortless. She was so cute.

“Well, if it wasn’t good, would you go to him so much?” Hilda asked.

She had a mouth on her, too. Dorothea related, but she didn't quite like it being turned on her. It took a moment to recover from the sting and gather her thoughts.

“I do _not_ go to him _that_ often,” Dorothea replied, curtly. “In fact, I almost never do. The only reason I did that night was because we had a little bit too much to drink, and I wanted you to be comfortable. If I hadn't stayed, he would have sweet-talked--”

“Me?” Hilda exclaimed, both hands fluttering to her chest, the picture of rosy-cheeked innocence. “I wasn’t even involved until the end! Don’t blame me just because you’ve got some weird thing about noble guys.”

Dorothea gasped.

“That’s not— _Hilda!_ That’s not the issue. The issue is that he’s a complete scoundrel. He is selfish, and he will never give you the care and attention you deserve.” She reached across the table with her palm open for Hilda's hand, but Hilda did not offer it, leaving Dorothea to persist and linger. "You cannot settle for someone who will only break your heart!"

“The dick, though,” Hilda replied. She closed her eyes and sighed.

Dorothea was certain Hilda was fucking with her, or at the very least trying to weasel out of addressing the issue.

“Dick is easy to come by,” Dorothea argued. “And there is _plenty_ of pleasure to be had without any dicks at all.”

Dorothea did not generally fuck people out of spite, but she did make a special exception sometimes when it came to spiting idiot men, and she was certain that Sylvain deserved to be spited in such a way. It was not right for women to be walking right to his door and throwing themselves on him, especially beautiful, vivacious, talented and kind women like Hilda, because Sylvain would never appreciate them fully and would ultimately put his own needs first. He was pushy. He didn't warn anyone when he was close! He said strange things in the heat of the moment and then wouldn't explain after! He did that annoying thing where he would get bored of a position and flip her over or move her around like a doll the moment he got bored, even if she'd just gotten into a rhythm that worked for her!

If she didn't already have afternoon plans, she might have taken Hilda by the hand right then and marched her off to _show_ her.

“Yeah, but that’s a lot of work, and his room is like, just down the hall.”

“Ugh!”

And then something truly atrocious happened: Sylvain.

“Hey,” he called, having spied them at the tea table, and he let himself through the garden gate and strolled over. He stood very close to Dorothea’s chair, preventing her escape, and his smile was almost blinding. “If it isn’t the two loveliest ladies in all of Garreg Mach.”

“How many girls have you used that line on today, Sylvain?” Dorothea replied, coolly.

“I’m hurt that you think I’d lie so cheaply,” Sylvain replied, unperturbed. He leant over her, both hands finding her shoulders. His damned fingers walked their way to her collarbone, where just his fingertips settled on her bare skin. He was firm and bracing. “Does this mean we’re not still on for tonight?”

Dorothea felt Hilda’s glee radiate across the table mere instants before a grin broke out on her face. She folded her hands and rested her chin upon them, looking very cute but not at all innocent when she said, “Oh? You’re getting together tonight?”

Dorothea smiled very tersely.

“It’s a study session,” she said.

“Studying?” Sylvain repeated, oblivious. “If that’s what we’re calling it now, sure. I’ll study until dawn. See you at eight.”

And he strolled right off with a grin. Hilda didn’t even wait for him to be out of earshot before she collapsed in giggles.

“Studying!” Hilda howled, doubling over the table and nearly disturbing their tea. She carried on between giggles: “Studying! It must be even harder to find a good study partner than it is to find good dick!”

Dorothea put her face in her hands and silently screamed.

Alas... the dick was good.


End file.
